


Irrational

by prototyping



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: DiZ is a jerk news at 11, Gen, Prompt Fill, Riku is an awkward dork, set early to mid Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8655364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: A ray of kindness goes a long way, especially in the shadows.
Riku, Naminé. My prize fill for a raffle over on dA.





	

“Naminé.”

An involuntary flinch broke her train of thought, making her quickly turn in place before she had fully placed the voice. “Riku?” She couldn’t help sounding surprised. Lately, she didn’t often see the older boy outside of her room and the laboratory; it felt a little strange, displaced even, for him to be out here on the mansion’s deck, his usually bright hair overcast with the shades of perpetual twilight. His black coat seemed to swallow the sun’s rays before any light could reach it. She smiled warmly at him all the same. “What brings you here?”

“Just checking in.” He “looked” from her to the skyline -- not really seeing, thanks to his blindfold, so that turn of his head may have simply been a coincidence. “Everything going alright?”

Naminé nodded out of habit, and then added an affirmative, “Mm. Sora’s waking is still many months away, but it’s going well.” She hoped her confident smile showed through in her voice.

“Sounds like all your hard work’s paying off.”

That made Naminé hesitate. Realizing how this might look -- finding her out here rather than with Sora -- she quickly amended, “I’m about to go back inside. I thought I’d get some fresh air, so… I--”

“It’s fine.” He smiled slightly, a partial expression that looked more like amusement than reassurance. “You’ve earned a break. Don’t let me ruin it.”

She silently let out the breath she’d been holding. Not everybody was DiZ. Not everybody would accuse her of slacking off if she took a moment to rest herself here and there. “You aren’t,” she told him cheerfully. Quickly doing the math in her head, she realized it had been over a week since she saw him last. “You’ve been fighting?” she guessed.

“Heartless,” Riku clarified. “Can’t get away from ‘em these days.”

Naminé hummed again in agreement, but her eyes remained on his blindfold. Back when she had first recommended it to him, he only needed to wear it during battle, the one time his dormant darkness would become a real threat. And yet… these days he wore it even around the mansion more often than not. She didn’t have to reach for his memories to figure out what her senses already detected: the darkness in his heart was stronger, more present than it had been when he made his choice at Castle Oblivion months back. Not a danger, not yet, but perhaps Riku was preparing for the day it would be.

“Aren’t you cold?” Again his question shattered her thoughts. She broke her thoughtful stare, her eyebrows knitting together in puzzlement.

“What?”

“I asked if you’re cold.” Riku nodded at her, indicating her dress, and she had to wonder how he could tell. Then again, it wasn’t as though she ever wore anything else. “It’s almost freezing out here.”

“...Oh.” The question itself wasn’t that misplaced -- it was late autumn and there was already a winter chill to the air, and the skin on Naminé’s face and limbs certainly stung beneath the cold, yes. A small price to pay for this lovely overview of this peaceful world. What threw her off was that the question was aimed at _her_. DiZ, the Organization members -- none of them had ever cared to ask about her level of comfort. Even the Riku Replica had been so obsessively fixated on what he _thought_ she needed that he never stopped to inquire about how she felt regarding anything.

And yet here was Riku, asking if she was cold and sounding... well, a bit confused at her state of underdress, but also a little concerned.

Or maybe not. Maybe she just _wanted_ to see concern and her mind was playing tricks on her, because he had no reason to be--

Smiling brightly, Naminé shook her head. “It’s not so bad. It’s nice, actually.” She turned away to look out over the town again, her eyes turning distant. “I actually didn’t know what cold felt like. Not real cold, like this… I only had memories of hot days on the beach, and warm nights. I guess--” She gave a small, soft laugh. “It’s silly, but I really like new things.”

When Riku didn’t respond, she wasn’t surprised. It was probably difficult for a normal person to understand, but she really didn’t mind the way her arms would ache with cold for another half hour after she went inside, or the slight shiver that had started to make her shoulders tremble as she spoke. It was worth it, worth the change, worth seeing something different, worth being away from the white walls that were all she knew.

Something touched her shoulders. She looked back, surprised to find Riku standing right behind her now -- but even more surprising was realizing he had removed his black coat and put it around her. “...Here,” he offered belatedly. “No sense in catching a cold on your break.”

Naminé stared at him. “Are you… sure? But what about you?”

“I’m sure.” He stepped back, letting go, and she had to quickly catch hold of the sleeves to keep it around her. It was heavier than it looked, and warm.

It was probably the first gesture of real kindness that she’d been given since… well, since saying goodbye to Sora. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and found that they were much too long for her, reaching several inches past her fingertips. She gave her arms an experimental flap, the leather snapping audibly with the motion. She chuckled quietly.

“What is it?”

“It’s a bit big for me,” she told him. Quickly she added, “But it’s very comfortable. Thank you, Riku.” She thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch, but it may have just been a trick of the twilight shadows.

“Don’t mention it.” There was a short pause, and then he announced, “I’m going into town for a bit. Don’t tempt fate, all right? It’s supposed to get colder tonight.”

“Of course.” She’d never intended to stay away from Sora that long.

With that generous (friendly? Was he thinking of her, or only that getting sick would hinder her efforts with Sora?) warning, Riku turned and disappeared back through the deck’s double doors in silence.

True to her word, Naminé didn’t linger much longer. Five minutes, maybe, but they passed like seconds and all too soon she was heading back into the mansion herself, back down the memorized hallways to the laboratory. To Sora. She slipped out of Riku’s coat on the way, hanging it carefully on the back of the drawing room chair where he surely wouldn’t miss it when he returned. She was pleased to find that instead of a lingering chill, her skin now buzzed with a new but comfortable warmth. She was almost reluctant to part with the coat, but with keeping it out of the question she only gathered up her notepad and crayons and went on her way.

She would draw next time, she decided. Mimicking those shades of twilight would be tricky, but it would be worth the challenge. She would just have to work on it in very small intervals; otherwise she would surely lose track of time and end up drawing for hours. Unacceptable, of course.

Down in the basement, Sora still slept. She smiled at him as she entered, noting as she always did that he was undisturbed, unmoved and unchanged. Unlike before, the sight didn’t make her sad, didn’t elicit a deep and dark throb of disappointment in her heartless chest. Now it only renewed her dedication, making her all the more determined to ensure he slept just as peacefully for the remainder of these long months.

She resumed her usual place before his pod, breathing in deeply as she reached out with her mind and heart. Feeling, searching, inviting his dormant memories to come to her at their own pace.

DiZ had a large library upstairs. One of the few times Naminé had been in there, she’d run her fingers curiously along the books on one shelf, finding some spines soft and supple and others firm and textured. Sora’s memories were like that. She touched them as she passed, but only lightly, with utmost care as though they were made of glass. A brush was all she ever needed to get a glimpse at their contents: many were bright and shining and made her want to laugh. A few were darker, like smoke. These made her frown. Some hurt.

Happy memories were easiest. She concentrated on the first one she found, following its golden threads to others like it, but slowly and patiently.

Time was relative down here. Sometimes the process would only take an hour, sometimes she would work for over half a day straight before making progress. It was easy to get discouraged, especially with DiZ constantly and harshly questioning her, but going back to Sora always lifted her spirits. He may have been asleep, but his presence was comforting and his memories made for good company.

After some length of time, Naminé blinked herself out of her focused daze. Again she smiled at Sora. A few more pieces in place.

Belatedly, a prickle on the edge of her senses said she wasn’t alone. She turned around, expecting DiZ -- but it was Riku who stood back a little ways. He was in his coat once more, arms folded over his chest, and -- somewhat surprisingly -- had removed his blindfold this time. Naminé met his gaze with a fond smile.

“You’re back,” she acknowledged.

“Didn’t interrupt, did I?”

“No. I just reached a stopping point.” She turned back to Sora. “He has… many memories. More than I realized.” Many of them were very similar -- childhood afternoons passed on the beach, day after day of the same thing… and yet he had never gotten tired of it. He had never been ungrateful for what he had.

Riku’s boots echoed in the chamber as he drew even with her, also staring up at his best friend. “He’s doing all right, then?”

“Yes. He never stops smiling.”

“Heh. Figures.” Riku _did_ smile then, even if it was just as much of a smirk. Then he turned to Naminé with a subtle shake of his head, reaching forward. “Here.”

“Hm?” She hadn’t realized he was holding something before, but now she wasn’t sure how she’d missed it. In his hand was a rectangle of white, and it took her a moment to recognize it as cloth. Gingerly, she moved to take it and the sides unfolded as she lifted it, long sleeves tumbling free. It was a jacket, she realized, and a cute one, lined with gold trim and white lace.

For a few moments she could only stare at it. Riku shifted his weight. “I just figured -- if you’re taking your breaks outside, you could use something warm,” he explained, suddenly intent on looking over at Sora again. “If you don’t like it, I--”

“No,” she said quickly, almost forcefully, and hugged it to her chest. “I -- I really do, Riku. I--” _\--love it_ , she started to say, but she caught herself. That wasn’t right. She couldn’t love. She had no heart to love with, as DiZ had said. Her perception of the emotion was based on Sora’s memories. On Kairi’s. She didn’t really know love, not like them, not like Riku. All the positive emotions she had ever felt towards Sora, the happiness she felt now… They felt like love, because she knew love through the eyes of others. But you couldn’t feel without a heart, DiZ said.

Even if she knew the pain of loneliness.

Even if she had memories like anybody else, memories that needed a heart to exist.

Any yet, no matter what she _thought_ she felt… she was still a Nobody. To think, to _pretend_ otherwise was ridiculous. Irrational, DiZ said.

“...Thank you!” Naminé finished. That, too, came out a little louder, a little more firm than her usual tone of voice, but she couldn’t help it. Nobody had ever given her anything -- not like this, not out of nothing more than kindness. Not…

_A gift._ It was a gift. Her chest grew light with the thought. Heart or no heart, she was touched. She was happy.

Riku smiled, and this time it was openly at her -- (for her?) -- but it was also brief, because a second later he was turning aside, now with an expression that she couldn’t place. It was still a smile, but it was distracted, somehow. “Don’t mention it,” he repeated. He almost seemed… uncomfortable. “But -- there’s something you could do for me.”

“What’s that?”

He caught her eye. “Don’t overdo it here. You’re allowed to think about yourself sometimes. And besides, if Sora knew that you ran yourself ragged for his sake… Well. You know what he’s like.”

A soft laugh bubbled up through Naminé’s throat before she could stop it. “Yes… I do.”

_You, too. You’re a lot like him,_ she thought. _I wonder if you realize it._


End file.
